Psylocke
by Godfather
Summary: Betsy Braddock, adoptive daughter of one of the richest families in America ismoving to Bayville.Ok, I know its been done before but I couldn't help myself. S/J andS/B(Betsy) pairing
1. Default Chapter

AN/ I know its been done before but I liked the idea of Psylocke coming to Bayville so much that I just had to try it out. Tell me if I should continue. REVIEW!!/  
  
  
  
  
  
Elizabeth Braddock stepped out of the long, black limousine and onto the freshly paved sidewalk, hoisting her backpack over her shoulders. She brushed a stray piece of silky black hair out of her eyes and took a moment to observe her new school, Bayville High.  
  
"Ms. Braddock, the limousine driver Chauncey said, rolling down the opaque window. "you might want to hurry. Twouldn't be right to be late on the first day of school."  
  
"It's not the first day of school Chauncey, just mine." She still thought it ridiculous that just because of he adoptive father's stupid job, she had leave her old, private school and start all over in the middle of the school year.  
  
"Well still, hurry." The limousine pulled off.  
  
Betsy sighed and began to walk at a brisk pace towards the entrance. She held her head down, hoping to avoid the attention that the dark red tattoo that ran down her left eye.  
  
"Hey, who are you?" A freshman boy jogged up to her, not recognizing her. Betsy pushed her way through the double doors.  
  
She looked around briefly once inside. There were some trophies in a case in the lobby and a million staircases.  
  
She had no idea where the office was.  
  
A group of girls suddenly pushed past her.  
  
"Ex-excuse me," Betsy called out. "Do you know where the office is?"  
  
The girls got one quick look at her and laughed. "Uh, yeah. Take a right once you reach the end of that hallway and it'll be the second door down. Don't worry if it doesn't look like an office because it really is."  
  
"OK." Betsy strode down the bulletin-littered hallway that the girls had pointed out to her. Taking a right, she reached the second door down. At the end of the hallway was the Gymnasium. The girls were right. It didn't look anything like a school office. Oh well.  
  
She pushed the door open and instantly knew that something was wrong. This was the boy's locker room, full of guys in towels staring at her like she had three heads.  
  
She tried to come up with something to say but it felt like her mouth was made of cotton.  
  
"Are you lost?" The question came from the only guy wearing school clothes and sunglasses.  
  
"Um, they told me.I mean, I thought this was the school office."  
  
The guys were obviously either not buying it or too shocked to respond so Betsy reluctantly called upon her telepathic powers, erasing the short-term memory of everyone. But when she got to the guy with the sunglasses, it was like running against a brick wall. A mind block?  
  
"What the-" Scott Summers started when he realized that this girl had just tried to wipe his mind. He didn't get to ask her about it though because she rushed out of the door.  
  
  
  
"And I'm telling you, Jean, she had a red tattoo of a scar or something running down her left eye and she was a telepath. She tied to sweep my mind clean. Would have too if not for my mental shields."  
  
"Another telepath here at Bayville?"  
  
"Yeah." Scott increased his pace even more as he and Jean walked towards the Pre-Calculus class they shared. "I've never seen her before at the school." Scott paused. "She said something about the school office."  
  
Jean frowned. "If there were another telepath at school, I think I'd know it."  
  
"Maybe she shields herself real well."  
  
They walked into the class, Jean taking a seat in the front row and Scott in the seat behind her. The Professor would definitely want to hear this.  
  
  
  
  
  
".and about the tattoo on your left eye." Ms. Darkholme, the principal went on. "It is in strict violation of this educational facility's dress code."  
  
"It's also permanent so there's not much I can do about it."  
  
"I see." Ms. Darkholme pursed her lips. "Well, I must admit that it is rather unusual for a student to come in the middle of the school year. However, your academic records are impeccable."  
  
"OK."  
  
"Do you think you will have any trouble fitting in?"  
  
"You mean with the tattoo?"  
  
"I mean period."  
  
Betsy shrugged.  
  
Ms. Darkholme stood up. "Well, I suppose I'd better let you choose your non- academic classes now. You'll be placed in the higher-level classes for all the academics because of your grades. In the future, you can talk to Mrs. Stadler, the Guidance Counselor if you have any problems. Hopefully, you won't need to visit her often. That will be all." 


	2. Chapter 2

"So tell me Elizabeth, how was your first day of school?" Ms. Braddock asked.  
  
"Interesting," Betsy said into the telephone. "It was interesting."  
  
Mrs. Braddock seemed slightly discouraged at the lack of enthusiasm in her adoptive daughter's voice. "Oh. Well you know that your father and I will be coming to the States to visit you for the weekend so.that'll be nice."  
  
"Mmm hmmm.'  
  
"You know," Mrs. Braddock continued, "we'll finally be able to talk in person."  
  
"Thrilled," Betsy said.  
  
"Are you?"  
  
Betsy paused. "Well, I just wish that you and dad were here more often."  
  
Mrs. Braddock sighed. "Did anyone at school give you trouble about your marking?" she asked, tactfully changing the subject.  
  
"They thought it was weird and the principal didn't like it too much but nothing too bad. I still don't see why I had to leave my old school."  
  
"Yes you do. You just don't want to accept it. Now listen Elizabeth, I have to go now so.see you this weekend."  
  
"Bye." Betsy clicked the phone off, placed it onto the receiver, and did a double backflip off the large bed without breaking a sweat. She examined herself in the mirror, checking to see if her hair was combed or if she had a smudge on her face as her mother had trained her to.  
  
Most people were surprised that this lovely, Asian girl with a red symbol running down her left eye had a name like Elizabeth Braddock.  
  
She was adopted though and had been ever since the age of five, beyond which she could not remember. Ever since she could remember though, that mysterious tattoo had been on her face. It couldn't be removed, of that she was sure but as to who had given it to her, she did not know.  
  
She started her daily workout with a rigorous round of powerful, yet controlled kicks, each one making a whistling sound as it sliced through the air. Most other martial artists made strange sounds like heiyyyy-yaaaa when they performed a move but Betsy had no need for such distraction.  
  
Once she was through with her kicking routine, she practiced her punches and then afterwards, combined the two. With every strike, she imagined she was hitting a mental adversary and then countered her imaginary foe's attacks.  
  
The instant the clock on her study desk registered 7:00, she dropped down onto a sitting position for meditation, becoming oblivious to her surroundings.  
  
Normally after she was through with her half hour meditation period Betsy would go through an unrelenting physical workout but she didn't feel like it today. For now, she was simply content to sit there on the floor, meditating.  
  
  
  
"I saw that girl you were talking about," Jean told Scott as they jogged around the Westchester mansion's indoor track for their daily required exercise.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Her name's Elizabeth Braddock and she's filthy rich.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. And you know, she just might be a telepath. I did a mindscan to see if she was telepathic and her mind was unreadable. Actually, it was like hitting a brick wall."  
  
"You thinking potential recruit?"  
  
"Nah, she seems like she's got an attitude problem."  
  
"I dunno. Rogue had an attitude problem and she turned out OK."  
  
"Good point." Jean turned her eyes to the track. "15 miles seems enough today. Don't you think?"  
  
"Sure, why not." Scott jogged off the track and to the bleachers, wiping his face off with a towel. "I was going to talk to the professor about it."  
  
"Elizabeth?"  
  
"I think its Betsy, actually." Scott corrected.  
  
"Whatever." Jean plopped down on the bleachers, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. "Oh, I think Kitty wants you to try out her new rolls ."  
  
"Is that a warning?"  
  
"Lets just say." Jean chuckled, standing up, "she gave me one and I find it makes a better paperweight than a food." She picked up her towel and began to walk towards the exit. "See ya Scott."  
  
"Yeah, see ya." Scott watched her all the way to the door.  
  
  
  
A/N Short, I know but still review 


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello students. Today's announcements are as follows," Principal Darkholme  
  
addressed the school. "Those of you involved in Forensics, don't forget that there is a  
  
meet this coming Saturday in Ms. Hoppe's room at 7:00 sharp. Congratulations to the  
  
girls soccer team for a resounding victory against Mapledale, led by Jean Grey with 11  
  
goals. Those of you who are signed up for the trip to Washington D.C., that is five days  
  
away so contact Mr. Wright if you have any last minute questions. Finally, don't forget to  
  
dress warmly the temperatures are steadily dropping."  
  
Scott made a mental note to congratulate Jean on the victory against Mapledale as  
  
he withdrew the last of his materials from his locker. He walked to class quickly, saying  
  
hi to some people.  
  
When he arrived to P.E. that morning, he noticed that there was a new person in  
  
the class. Betsy Braddock. He smiled involuntary when someone moved to the left,  
  
giving him a clear line of sight. Betsy was cute alright, there was no denying that. She  
  
was sitting on one of the bleachers, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing  
  
an extra large T-shirt with Japanese symbols on both front and back and a pair of bike  
  
shorts. She looked around briefly, her eyes pausing on him for a beat too long but she still  
  
couldn't tell he was looking at her. That was the one thing he liked about having to wear  
  
sunglasses. People couldn't tell if you were looking at them through your peripheral  
  
vision.  
  
Mrs. Meuler, the P.E. instructor walked among the group of students and cleared  
  
her throat. "OK kids, listen up," she said once things had quieted down. "I know that we  
  
were supposed to continue archery today but the Jr. High needed them today so instead  
  
we'll be doing good ol' fashioned dodgeball. Since we have a fairly even number of boys  
  
and girls, we will do this boys vs. girls." She looked up at the clock. "We have 35  
  
minutes boys and girls. Make 'em count. Guys on one side of the half court line, girls on  
  
the other."  
  
Betsy jogged to the girls' side, her ponytail bouncing behind her. She took a  
  
position at the front of the group where none of the other girl's were willing to go. On the  
  
other side of the half court line, some of the guys were making muscles and joking about  
  
how long it would take to 'kick some girly butt.' Betsy chuckled. Boy were they in for a  
  
surprise.  
  
Mrs. Meuler picked up the dodgeball and then pulled out a quarter. "Heads or  
  
tails. Call it." She flicked it high into the air.  
  
"Heads," one of the guys said.  
  
The coin landed in Mrs. Mueler's hand and she looked at it. "Heads it is. Boys  
  
start." She tossed the ball to Matt Emerson. Matt looked around, and then his eyes met  
  
hers. He grinned, leaned back and then launched the dodgeball with all of his strength  
  
straight at Betsy.  
  
She caught it, absorbing he impact into her left leg. "Sorry Matt," she called. All  
  
the girls laughed as Matt walked off the court, clearly embarrassed. One of the girls even  
  
gave her a high five.  
  
Betsy lifted the ball into the air, let it drop, and then lunged out with her foot,  
  
hitting the ball with a sidekick.  
  
Scott saw the ball coming, but were it not for his intensively honed reflexes he  
  
would not have been able to dodge it. He leaped out of the way and it missed him by  
  
scant inches but nailed the guy behind him so bad it knocked him flat on his back.  
  
"Hey, she kicked it," one of the guys protested.  
  
Mrs. Meuler shrugged. "So, you can launch the ball any way you want."  
  
The rest of the game, Betsy kept hitting guy after guy. There was no talk of  
  
whooping the girls now.  
  
On the other hand, Scott seemed to be intangible. Whenever Betsy or anyone else  
  
threw it at him, he would dodge at the last minute. Then he'd get the ball and the next  
  
thing you know, another girl would bite the dust, having fallen victim to Scott's amazing  
  
arm.  
  
Soon, Scott and Neil were the only two guys left standing on the boy team and  
  
Betsy was the only girl left on the girl team. It was the boys' ball.  
  
"Hey Summers, let me throw," Neil said as Scott picked up the ball.  
  
Scott raised an eyebrow. "You threw last time, and as I recall Betsy over there  
  
dodged it no sweat."  
  
"So. Gimme the ball."  
  
Scott sighed, tossing the yellow dodgeball to Neil. "Fine. Try it again.  
  
Neil drew back, ready to throw his hardest. This was hardball now; the Japanese  
  
girl had practically single-handedly knocked off most of the team. She wouldn't get away  
  
with it if he, or rather his pride, had anything to say about it. He drew back.and  
  
launched.  
  
The students on the bleachers who blinked missed it entirely as it zoomed towards  
  
its mark. Surely Betsy couldn't have caught it.  
  
She had. Betsy held up the ball, chuckling at the look of disbelief on Neil's face.  
  
Her team was cheering for her now. Even some of the boys were rooting for her. Maybe  
  
she was starting to fit in.  
  
"Well," Mrs. Meuler said, "there are two kids left and one minute to go. May the  
  
best man, or woman win."  
  
Betsy hurled the ball at Scott, aiming for his legs. Scott leaped up into the air  
  
though, the ball passing harmlessly underneath him. He retrieved the ball and launched it  
  
back at Betsy who jumped to the side and out of harm's way.  
  
This time, Betsy kicked the ball, using the back kick technique. Scott ducked but  
  
it still grazed his head.  
  
"Good shot," he called, his first spoken words to her that day, "but hitting me in  
  
the head doesn't count." He threw the ball back and she naturally dodged.  
  
"Ten seconds left," Mrs. Meuler called. "Make 'em count."  
  
"I plan to," Betsy said to herself. She tossed the ball up into the air and spiked it at  
  
Scott like one would spike a volleyball.  
  
THWAP, once again, the dodgeball hit Scott in the head but this time, it knocked  
  
his sunglasses off.  
  
The ball rolled over to the bleacher but that was not what Scott was focusing on.  
  
He immediately shut his eyes and sank to the ground, feeling around for his sunglasses.  
  
"Are-are you alright?" Betsy asked.  
  
"Yeah, I just need my shades."  
  
Betsy jogged over to him. "Here," she said, picking the sunglasses of the ground.  
  
They were strangely heavy for sunglasses.  
  
"Thanks." Scott gratefully took his glasses and put them back on, finally able to  
  
open his eyes. Betsy was kneeling in front of him, looking at him strangely.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"You seem to have a very strong affection for those sunglasses. You looked like  
  
you'd just dropped a wad of $100 bills."  
  
"Oh. Uh.I got these sunglasses from my grandmother," Scott said, making up a  
  
story. "She's, you know, dead now and they mean a lot to me." Scott abruptly stood up,  
  
uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. A confused Betsy did so as well a few  
  
moments later.  
  
"Well, it looks like we have a draw," Mrs. Meuler announced. She clapped Scott  
  
and Betsy on the shoulder. "Excellent playing you two. I don't think I've ever seen a  
  
dodgeball display quite so.competitive."  
During lunch, Betsy lunch, Betsy watched Scott like a hawk as she had ever since  
  
P.E. Not once had she seen him without those sunglasses, something that intrigued her.  
  
Scott Summers intrigued her. Betsy played around with the realization in her  
  
head, not quite sure what it meant. Did it mean he fascinated her? Yeah, he did. Did that  
  
mean she liked him? No, she decided. That wasn't the case. It took more than a brief  
  
meeting and a dodgeball game for that, didn't it? Why, he probably hadn't spoken three  
  
sentences to her since her move to Bayville. She poked a fork into her salad and began to  
  
eat.  
  
"Hey Scott, over here man." Scott looked around, finding Evan Daniels over at a  
  
table waving.  
  
"Hey Evan." Scott slid onto the seat in between Rogue and Kitty. He paused.  
  
"Where's Jean?"  
  
Kitty pointed over at a table way across the lunchroom. "Duncan 's table. I guess  
  
he insisted she sit at the 'jock' table today."  
  
"Oh." Scott tried to appear as if he did not care. "So, what's been happening with  
  
you guys lately?"  
  
"Kurt just discovered a new mutant ability," Rogue told him.  
  
Scott looked at Kurt who was beaming. "Well, don't keep me waiting man, tell  
  
me about it."  
  
"OK, OK," Kurt said. He cleared his throat. "I can invisible."  
  
"What?"  
  
Rogue nodded. "He's not lying Scott. I saw him do it with my own eyes. Its like,  
  
one minute he's there and the next he's not."  
  
"You sure he wasn't just teleporting?"  
  
"I wasn't teleporting," Kurt insisted.  
  
Scott eyed Kurt a little warily. "Now Kurt, I know you can be a little bit of a joker  
  
sometimes."  
  
"I won't disagree with you there," Rogue cut in, "but there was no smoke or  
  
anything. Plus, when he did it he was holding a pencil and I could still see the pencil even  
  
when he went invisible. It looked like the pencil was floating. Invisible I tell you."  
  
"What pencil was floating?" Jean asked from behind them.  
  
Scott whirled around. "Jean! I thought you were over at Duncan's table."  
  
Jean shrugged, sitting down. "I left. I mean, Duncan IS my boyfriend and all and  
  
he's a really sweet guy but when he's around his jock friends.it's like he's someone  
  
else." Jean paused. "So why were we talking about floating pencils?"  
Betsy's last class of the day was study hall, which she coincidentally had with  
  
Scott. She had chosen a study hall because she'd expected an inundation of work but that  
  
was not the case. In fact, the work was incredibly easy, much easier than back at her old,  
  
private school.  
  
As she'd found herself doing very often since coming to Bayville High, she  
  
looked over at Scott. He was drawing something but exactly what, she couldn't tell.  
  
Betsy stretched out her mind, exercising her psychic powers. She could sense the  
  
minds of others and, even without trying, sense to some degree what they were thinking.  
  
Except for Scott of course. What was with that mental barrier thing anyway? She  
  
gave an inward sigh. There were so many things about Scott Summers that  
  
were.puzzling. Why did he always wear sunglasses? Why was he so afraid of taking  
  
them off? How did he learn how to shield his mind from telepaths? Betsy pressed a little  
  
harder against his psychic shields, testing them a little.  
  
From the way Scott reacted, he obviously didn't think it was just a little thing. He  
  
whirled and looked straight at her with a confused look on his face, startling half the  
  
class. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Mr. Summers, Ms. Braddock is there a problem?" the study hall teacher asked.  
  
Betsy could feel her cheeks flaming. She opened her mouth but no Scott spoke  
  
first.  
  
"Uh.nothing Mrs. Lansing," Scott said. He looked over at Betsy one more time  
  
with the same look of confusion before returning to his work.  
  
Betsy slumped her head down onto her arm, sending her shiny black hair  
  
tumbling all over the desk. 'Great going Elizabeth,' she thought.  
A/N as usual, review  
  
-Godfather 


	4. Chapter 4

"So Kurt, tell me about this new power you claim to possess," Charles Xavier instructed Kurt as they, along with the other X-Men were gathered in the living room.  
  
"You make it sound as though I'm lying," Kurt protested.  
  
"Sorry, but please Kurt, it is vital that I can see and study any new abilities that my students acquire."  
  
Kurt nodded. "OK. Vatch." He closed his eyes, and then faded from view. "See?" Kurt's voice could be heard but without a visible body saying the words. The effect was downright creepy.  
  
Hank McCoy stroked his blue, furry chin. "Interesting. Not only does your.ability render you invisible to the human eye but your garments and holographic projection as well. I must say this is highly unusual."  
  
"Yes," Ororo concurred. "Uh, Kurt, would you mind changing back?"  
  
"Not at all," Kurt said and right before their eyes he appeared right back into view.  
  
Xavier tapped the armrest on his wheelchair in thought. "Well Kurt, I believe you have a Danger Room exercise right now so I won't keep you for now. Later, we will have to talk though." Xavier looked up at his three instructors, Ororo, Logan, and Hank. "Could I speak with you three briefly?"  
  
Logan and Ororo exchanged a glanced. Hank shrugged. "Sure."  
  
***  
  
"I heard about the P.E. dodgeball game," Jean remarked to Scott after the Danger Room exercises were done. They were sitting in the control room since Logan was using the track.  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"Oh.let's see I think something about the girl team kicking serious butt on the guys."  
  
"No," Scott corrected. 'It was more like Betsy, the one woman team hit the guys before they could even look at her cross-eyed and the other girls cheered. Scott looked over at Jean. He contemplated telling her about what had happened in Study Hall but decided against it.  
  
"What," Jean said.  
  
"What do you mean 'what'?"  
  
"Scott, you looked over at me like you were going to say something but then didn't. What were you going to say?"  
  
"It was nothing Jean."  
  
For the next few minutes, they were silent.  
  
"This is awkward you know," Jean spoke up finally. At least to me it is. I mean, you, you like quiet but silence just drives me crazy."  
  
"Are you saying you want to talk for the sake of talking?"  
  
"Yeah, sort of." Jean leaned forward. "Scott, Ever since we met we've always. you know, talked. Whether it be while jogging or telepathically when listening to one of Dr. McCoy's lectures or.fighting evil mutants." This elicited a small chuckle from Scott.  
  
"Yeah, I remember that. The first time we fought that one guy, what was his name? He was the one with the uh, sonic screams."  
  
"Banshee," Jean supplied.  
  
"Yeah, yeah that's him. He was beating the crap out of us and the only thing you could think to fire into my brain was how you'd learned how to move stuff with your mind."  
  
"Hey, that was a really big thing for me, just like that invisible power is for Kurt."  
  
"Yeah, I guess."  
  
Jean was silent for a moment. "Scott," she finally said. "Do you remember when you asked me out that one time, in the ninth grade?"  
  
"I didn't know you still remembered that."  
  
"So you remember?"  
  
"Yeah. We had gone to a pizza place-"  
  
"And you had spent like, twenty-five dollars on the meal. When it came down to it though, you chickened out and said you really hadn't meant it to be a date, that it was just a friendly talk."  
  
"I thought you'd believed me."  
  
"I'd pretended to, Scott." She tapped her forehead. "I'm a telepath, remember? And you're mental shield's weren't nearly as developed back then."  
  
"Any particular reason you're bringing this up?"  
  
Jean laughed. "Ah, Scott I just wanted to know what you think might have happened if you had actually told me the real reason you asked me out."  
  
"C'mon Jean, that's a no brainer." It was Scott's turn to laugh. "Well, A: you might've laughed at me right at the spot, B: you would have said how sweet that was but you only liked me as a friend, or C: you might have actually returned my silly crush and I say the culminating relationship would have lasted six months at the most. Then, things would never be the same between us. We wouldn't have developed a strong friendship and-"  
  
Scott was cut off by the sound of laughter coming from somewhere in the room, but neither he nor Jean was laughing and there was no one else there."  
  
"It's Kurt," Jean said, putting a hand on Scott's arm after a telepathic scan. With a simple thought, she forced her will over Kurt's power, compelling him to revert back to being visible.  
  
Kurt was hanging by his tail on one of the girders, a sheepish look on his face. "Heh heh. Uh.hi Jean. Hi Scott."  
  
Scot looked at him straight in the eye, his sunglasses adding to the scary effect. "Kurt, what are you doing? I mean, don't you have anything better to do than spy on Jean and I?"  
  
"Jah."  
  
"So now." Scott continued, "what do you say?"  
  
"I say. Scott and Jean, sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Ha haa."  
  
"Let's get him," Jean suggested sweetly.  
  
Scott nodded. "Let's."  
  
"Oh, come on now guys you know I vas just kidding around vith you. I do it all zhe time, you know. Hey, vhat are you going to do vith dat?"  
  
A half hour later, Kitty thought she heard a few thumping noises. She listened closer and it sounded as if someone was yelling.  
  
"You like, hear that?" she asked Evan who was busily paging through a skateboarding magazine.  
  
He looked up. "No."  
***  
  
"Ms. Braddock," Chauncey called from the parlor. "There is a package in the mail for you."  
  
"Who's it from?" Betsy asked, walking to the stairwell. Below her some six or seven flights was Chauncey, holding a brown box.  
  
"I believe this gift is from your mother," Chauncey told her.  
  
"OK.:" Most people would have been content to simply walk own the stairs but, Betsy was not most people. She leaped into the air and landed briefly on the railing before pushing off into the open space. Even tough the fall was a good 9 or ten meters, she landed like a cat, silently.  
  
"Ms. Braddock," Chauncey admonished. "Must you do such dangerous things? I daresay you almost gave me a heart"  
  
"I can take of myself Chauncey," Betsy said gently "But I'm sorry if I scared you. Now may I please see the package?"  
  
"Of course." Chauncey handed the package to Betsy. She noted that it was in fact a little heavier than it looked.  
  
Carefully, she peeled the tape off, opened the package, and retrieved a book with a lock on it.  
  
"What is this?" She asked confusedly.  
  
"Well Ms. Braddock, it appears to be a diary."  
  
Betsy felt around the back until her hand came across something tied to the book with a piece of string. It was a key.  
  
"Hey Chauncey, do you mind if I take this up into my room?"  
  
"Of course not dear," Chauncey told her. "Would you like me to make some tea?"  
  
"Sure." Betsy walked up to her room and flopped down on the bed, palming the key. Gently, she slid it into the lock on the diary and with a small click, it opened. On the first page was a note from her mom.  
  
Dear Elizabeth, it said. Yes, this is a diary and you can write just about anything you want in it. I picked it up in a gift shop but it is real leather and it has a sort of.classic likeness. I just had a feeling you would like it.  
  
I'm not sure if I'll be there or not when you get this, but I want you to know that your father and I love you very much.  
  
Betsy smiled and turned the diary to a blank page. She reached over to her bedside table, grabbed a pen, and began to write.  
Dear Diary,  
  
You know, it's kind of weird writing that. You're just a book but I'm writing in you at a personal level, like you're my best friend or something. Oh well, I guess I'm supposed to write about stuff that's happened to me so here goes.  
  
When I first came here, I was pretty sure that life was going to be hell. No, really. I used to live in England and go to a private school and public school was a big change for me.  
  
When I first got there, some girl tricked me into going inside the boys locker room. Can you say, EMBARASSING? I had to mind wipe 'em all so they wouldn't remember. No, scratch that. I mind wiped almost all of the guys. This one guy, Scott Summers has a mental shield. How he got it, I don't know but his mind is off limits. He's kinda cool. He seems pretty well liked around the school, I mean, there some of the jocks don't like him, especially Duncan Matthews. (I sorta telepathically eavesdropped on a conversation that Duncan and his friends were having. It seems Mr. Matthews is scared that his girlfriend, Jean likes Scott more than him. Not that I blame him for being scared. I still don't know why Jean didn't dump Duncan for Scott months ago.)  
  
Wait, you don't know something really important about Jean. She's a telepath, just like me.  
  
Back to Scott, he always wears these sunglasses. I have never seen him without them. I'm not sure if it's like, sensitive eyes or something but he really freaks out if they get knocked off. Personally, I think the shades give him sort of.intense, yet not creepy look, which believe it or not kind of turns me on.not that I'd ever tell him that of course.  
  
The schoolwork at Bayville High is nothing compared to the work at Preston Hall (that was my old school.) I guess public school isn't as advanced as the private school curriculum. Everyone in my math class thinks I'm a super genius or something because I get everything right but the truth is, I've learned this stuff before.  
  
Hey, tell you what. Chauncey just finished the tea so. I gotta go.  
  
Bye  
  
A/N Hola, remember to review. 


	5. Chapter 5

By her third day of school, Betsy was having a much better attitude about her new school. It was like she'd climbed up the social food chain or something. Friends, there were many friends now. Even the girls who had tricked her on her first day were being friendly now.  
  
That didn't smooth over the major bummer of her mom and dad being detained on business. Her father had told her that something had come up, he was very sorry, and he'd try to make it next month.  
  
"Hey Betsy," one of her friends, Gina Cameron, greeted her. Betsy waved, hoisting her books onto her hip as she headed to the cafeteria. "What's up Gina?"  
  
"What's up is that exactly one hour and nineteen minutes from now, we will be on a bus headed to Washington D.C. Isn't that awesome?"  
  
"It does seem interesting," Betsy said. "Visiting the capital of the United States. I don't see why we couldn't just take a plane though. Or why we're leaving in the middle of the day instead of in the morning."  
  
Gina chuckled. "Girl, that Principal Darkholme is muy loco if you know what I mean. Half the stuff she does doesn't make any sense. You just learn to live with it."  
  
"I see." Betsy walked to the a la carte line, examining the day's menu. "Gina, you're on student council right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Maybe you could propose a vegetarian, or at least healthy lunch choice in the school cafeteria at your next student council meeting. I swear, one of these food choices probably has more calories than I eat in a month." Betsy grabbed a Minute Maid, some nachos, and a blueberry muffin, a look of mild disgust on her face.  
  
"That'll be $3.25," The cashier lady said.  
  
Betsy pulled out a five-dollar bill and handed it to her, pocketing the change once she got it.  
  
Once Betsy and Gina were seated Betsy looked quickly around the cafeteria for Scott. As she'd expected, he was sitting people she didn't know. Glasses on of course. Surprisingly, Jean wasn't there.  
  
Betsy nudged Gina. "Hey, do you know Scott Summers?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"What can you tell me about him?"  
  
Gina smiled conspiratorially "Why you wanna know? You got a thing for Scott?"  
  
A firm denial was the first thing to pop into Betsy's mind. However, she paused and considered her answer. "Would that be such a bad thing if I did?"  
  
"Well uh, no. I mean, Scott is fine and all. He's just, not the type that most girls like if you get what I'm saying."  
  
"No, I don't get what you're saying." Betsy said.  
  
"He's just, kind of.intense."  
  
"What if I like intense?"  
  
"Well, even then, if anyone were to get him, it'd be Jean Grey. They're always together. Why you so interested in Scott, Betsy."  
  
Betsy threw her hands up in the air. "Did I SAY I was interested in Scott? This is all hypothetical here Gina." She said a little louder than necessary.  
  
"OK, OK." Gina's eyes strayed towards Betsy's tray. "You gonna eat those nachos?"  
  
Betsy grinned and slid nachos over to Gina. "They're yours." She whipped out her diary and yanked the cap off of the attached pen that she'd installed the day before.  
  
"What's that?" Gina asked, crunching on the nachos.  
  
"My diary."  
  
"Ohhh. Can I read?"  
  
Betsy laughed. "Of course.Not. Diaries are personal." She chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip and then began to write.  
  
***  
  
"Aaaaaachooo." Evan gave a loud sneeze, startling everyone at the table. Kurt even faded out of view briefly in his startled state.  
  
"Whoa, like, bless you," Kitty said.  
  
"I think I caught something from Jean," Evan said sheepishly.  
  
"Bummer," Scott said. Jean had come down with something the night before and in the morning, she'd looked terrible. Professor Xavier had of course insisted that she not go to school, despite the fact that she would miss the trip to Washington D.C.  
  
Kurt came to the table just then, making sure to sit as far away from Scott as possible. He was still a little scared of Scott ever since he and Jean had so thoroughly punished him for spying on them.  
  
"So how come none of you guys signed up for the D.C. trip?" Scott asked finally.  
  
"I've been there," Kitty said.  
  
"I lost my form," Kurt said.  
  
"Got something planned for tonight," Evan piped up.  
  
Scott looked at Rogue, the only one who hadn't said anything. "Rogue?"  
  
Rogue shrugged. "Ah just don't like being squished up with a bunch of people in a crowded bus, you know, with mah powers and all."  
  
"Makes sense," Scott told her. "I guess we all have to be careful about our powers." He paused, being reminded of his own devastating powers. Absentmindedly, he touched his ruby-quartz glasses, the only thing standing between his destructive optic blasts and the rest of the world.  
  
***  
  
'Two pages already,' Betsy thought as she waited in the lobby along with the rest of the kids going to Washington D.C. At this rate, the diary would be filled up in no time.  
  
"OK kids," The teacher said as the bus pulled up. Behind it was a transport for all the luggage. "The bus is here so wait, wait, don't get in yet we have to figure out a seating order."  
  
The kids walked outside and many immediately complained about the cold. Betsy wrapped her arms around herself. It WAS cold. She hoped the bus had a heater.  
  
Betsy perked up once she saw the bus pull up in front of the school. It was a tempting sight.  
  
"The bus is here," the teacher announced, so just follow me and I will point out where you will be sitting." She led the group onto the bus and then pulled out a checklist. "OK, let's see. Braddock, you're in front. Grey, you're next to Braddock."  
  
"Jean's not here today Ms. Quinn," Scott said from the back.  
  
"Oh. Well then Summers, you're with Braddock." Ms. Quinn said. She then began rattling off the other names.  
  
Betsy said down in the front seat and Scott plopped down beside. If he'd had any reaction at all being placed next to her. He didn't show it.  
  
"How come Jean's not her today?" Betsy asked him conversationally as the bus pulled off.  
  
"Sick," was Scott's monosyllabic answer.  
  
"Oh. Well do you know how long it'll take to get to Washington D.C.?"  
  
Scott shrugged. 'I don't know, but it looks like a snowstorm is brewing so I wouldn't count on it any time soon."  
  
"You ever been to Washington D.C.?"  
  
"Once."  
  
"Cool. I've never been."  
  
"You'll like it," Scott said.  
  
"I hope so." Betsy paused. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"Why do you always wear sunglasses?"  
  
Scott hesitated. "It's an eye condition," he said.  
  
"An eye condition?" Betsy had hoped he would come up with a better lie than that. She thought about pressing it but decided to drop it. He probably wouldn't tell her anyway.  
  
For the next half hour, they were silent. Then a gust of wind blew loudly by. It was so powerful that it seemed to make the bus tip a little bit.  
  
"Like I said," Scott spoke, not looking up from his sketchbook. "A snowstorm."  
  
Someone then started a round of Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer On the Wall and Betsy threw her head against the back of the seat in frustration. In doing so, she caught a glimpse of Scott's sketchbook and narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Is that me? She asked.  
  
Scott's face registered confusion at first before he realized what she was referring to. "Yeah."  
  
"Can I see it?" Betsy asked.  
  
Scott handed it to her. It was good. Very good, Betsy thought. It was like looking at herself through his eyes. "You're pretty good," she said.  
  
Scott's mouth quirked up into a smile. "Thank you."  
  
Betsy flipped through some more of the pages. There were pictures of trees, chairs.she stopped when she came upon a large picture that encompassed the entire page. "What's this?" she asked. The picture depicted a guy in a visor blasting something out of his eyes while behind him, a kid was shooting spikes out of his arm. To the left, a young girl seemed to be coming out of the ground, like a ghost. The last person in the picture was a girl who had both hands on her forehead, which seemed to be glowing slightly. All of them were wearing strange costumes, like superheroes or something.  
  
"This one's amazing, Betsy said. "Who are these people. The guy shooting water out of his eyes looks something like you."  
  
"Just.figments of my own wild imagination," Scott said defensively.  
  
"Still, it's awesome." Betsy handed the sketchbook back to Scott. She was about to say something but just then, the bus lurched, sending her face crashing against the window. Her eyes widened as the bus skidded on the icy road and crashed right through the barrier on the edge of the road and into empty space. Screams filled the bus.  
  
The sensation of falling did not last long because the bus hit an outcropping, banged off, and landed, about four feet below the outcropping on its side.  
  
Betsy slowly lifted her head. She felt like she'd been run over by a Mac truck and her head throbbed fiercely.  
  
Groggily, the students got up. A few were bleeding but the injuries were surprisingly mild as far as the crash was concerned. Betsy glanced over at Ms. Quinn and the bus driver. Both were unconscious.  
A/N I know that in the comics, Kurt's invisibility is limited is limited but I decided to expand it for my own fic. Don't worry folks, this fic is gonna be Scott and Betsy all the way. As for whether or not Warren's gonna be in this one, why don't you review me to tell me what you think about it.  
  
Reiews make me smile. They also make me write faster. 


	6. Chapter 6

"What happened?" someone asked.  
  
Scott reached over to the lever that opened the door and stepped out, the freezing air hitting him like a cold slap. He couldn't see the road, only white and more white.  
  
Betsy stepped out, joining him. "Looks like you were right."  
  
"About what?"  
  
Betsy smiled halfheartedly. "We won't be getting to Washington D.C for a while." Betsy turned and peered into the bus. "Aren't you guys going to come out?"  
  
"No way," one of the students said. "I'm staying in here where at least there's some warmth."  
  
Betsy shrugged. "Your choice." She pulled her arms inside of her jacket. "Think if we yell, someone'll find us?" she asked Scott.  
  
"No, but if you want to, go right on ahead." Scott turned and began to walk away.  
  
"Wait where are you going?" Betsy asked.  
  
"To find some help," Scott responded simply. Maybe locate a forest Ranger."  
  
"That's crazy," she insisted. "You'll freeze to death and you'll have no idea where you'll be going."  
  
"You have a better idea?"  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Why not just wait here until help arrives. Or call 911 or something. Somebody must have brought a cell phone."  
  
"Doubtful. We weren't allowed to bring them." Scott turned around. "Hey, if you want to stay here, fine. Me, I'm going." He turned back and resumed walking.  
  
Betsy gritted her teeth. Scott was being stupid. He wouldn't last five minutes out there.  
  
***  
  
"I see somethin' movin' down there," Brice Campbell told his friend Nate Halloway. They were perched behind some trees on the edge of a large outcropping of rock.  
  
"Is it a buck?"  
  
Campbell squinted, focusing the lens on his rifle. "No, it's a person."  
  
Nate frowned. "What would anybody be doing way up here?"  
  
"Don't know, but I still don't like it." He adjusted the rifle but was interrupted by Nate who put a hand firmly down on the barrel.  
  
"What you do that for?" Brice asked angrily as he looked up at Nate.  
  
"You were about to shoot."  
  
"So?"  
  
Nate threw his hands up in frustration. "Sometimes, I question your sanity, man. You don't go shooting people who just happen to be walking by."  
  
"No one should just be happening to walk by. It's a freakin' blizzard. I'll bet that guy down there is a forest ranger."  
  
"Well then you're paranoid. Now unless you see an animal, don't shoot." Nate looked at his watch, frowning. "I give us another five minutes and then we need to head back to the cabin."  
  
***  
Scott had shivered for the hundredth time in the hour or so that he'd been searching. The cold was fierce and even though he had amazing stamina, he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep it up much longer. For an instant, he thought he saw something move on one of the snow covered rock formations he was surrounded by, but dismissed it as his imagination. When he saw it a second time however, he looked closely. Yes, there was definitely someone up there. It was definitely worth checking out because maybe whoever it was could help.  
  
After a brief pause, he began to climb.  
  
***  
  
"She's moving," someone yelled. Betsy ran over to where Ms. Quinn lay and sure enough, her head was moving. Betsy reached out with her mind, psionically helping the teacher to regain consciousness.  
  
"It's cold," Ms. Quinn muttered through barely moving lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she tentatively reached a hand to her forehead. "What- what happened?"  
  
"We don't know exactly," Betsy said, "the bus must have crashed into something, or maybe slid on an ice patch."  
  
"Ms. Quinn let out a frustrated breath. She looked like she was about to say something but then her eyebrows shot up. "Why are the seats on the roof of the bus?" she asked weakly.  
  
"We kind of caught flipped over."  
  
"My God," the teacher muttered, "is anyone hurt?"  
  
"No." Betsy stood up and reached a hand down. "Here let me help you up."  
  
Ms. Quinn took the hand and Betsy pulled her, somewhat unsteadily, to her feet. She could see Ms. Quinn taking a head count.  
  
"Where's Scott?" came the inevitable question.  
  
Betsy sighed. "He went to go find help."  
  
"Out there?!! He went out there in the cold with no idea of where he was going to somehow find help?"  
  
"Kind of."  
  
Ms. Quinn looked as if she were about to faint all over again. "Scott. He's- he's smarter than that. God knows what's happened to him by now." She shook her head. "I don't suppose anyone has any-"  
  
"Cell phones? No." Betsy said, finishing the sentence. "We do have food though, and blankets too, you know, our luggage and everything."  
  
"That's good news. I'd feel a lot better if we could account for Scott though. How long has he been gone?"  
  
"About an hour so."  
  
Ms. Quinn swore softly, surprising Betsy somewhat. "He could be anywhere by now."  
  
Betsy extended her psychic awareness, trying to locate Scott. By now, she knew how to sense him even with his telepathic barriers; simply try to find the blind spot in her scan and that would be where he was.  
  
Betsy looked at Ms. Quinn who was writing something down in her notepad. "I have an idea," she said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I could go find him."  
  
"Betsy.I'm not in the mood."  
  
"Seriously Ms. Quinn, I'm really good outdoors and I think I might be able to track him down."  
  
"Good outdoors? That's nice and all but-hey! Where are you going?"  
  
"After Scott," Betsy called, stepping out of the door.  
  
"But I never said you could go."  
  
Betsy pretended not to hear. It felt weird directly disobeying Ms. Quinn like that but she was the only one there with any chance of locating Scott.  
  
***  
"AAAAAACHOOOOOOO" Jean sneezed violently, causing Ororo to jump in surprise. She was in the weather mistress's doorway and had been trying not let the sneeze out.  
  
"Jean," she said almost sternly. "Can you keep it down? I'm watering my plants here."  
  
Jean looked over Ororo's shoulder and saw that a dark, angry cloud had formed over some of Ororo's plants. Gradually as the shock wore off, the cloud went back to a whitish color and released a gentle drizzle of rain.  
  
"I'm sorry," Jean mumbled. She sneezed again and shook her head as if to clear it.  
  
"It's alright, although I wouldn't mind knowing what brings you to my garden."  
  
"Well, I wanted to ask you something."  
  
Ororo raised an eyebrow and dissipated the cloud. "I am sensing that it is rather important, at least to you."  
  
"Hey," Jean joked, "I'm supposed to be the telepath here."  
  
"You have been bothered with something for quite a while now. It does not take a telepath to see that."  
  
"That obvious huh?"  
  
"Yes, now what was it that was on your mind?"  
  
"It's about Scott. I mean, we've known each other for a long time and we've been friends for a long time but recently, there have been times when I've thought about him as a.a more than friend. And then I don't know where those feelings come from or what they mean."  
  
Storm gave a slight smile. "Maybe they mean that your relationship is changing. Or maybe you are just the unfortunate victim of a crush, although I thought you and Duncan Matthews."  
  
"Oh, Duncan." Jean's mouth quirked slightly. "Honestly, I can't say that I feel that strongly for Duncan. I mean, he's attractive and all but being with him can't compare to being with Scott." As soon as the words were out, Jean put a hand to her mouth. "See, see what I'm talking about. I find myself spouting off this romantic drivel and I don't know why."  
  
"Does it bother you?"  
  
"No, not really. I think it should but it doesn't."  
  
"Well Jean, I'm no expert on such things but I would recommend talking to him."  
  
Jean sneezed at the time that Ororo said this so she could not be sure she'd heard right. "Did you just say talk to him?"  
  
"I believe so, yes."  
  
Jean shook her head. "No, there has to be another solution."  
  
"There may be Jean, but if there is, I certainly don't know of it. Like I said, if it were me, I'd talk to him."  
  
Jean sighed. "Thanks anyway Ms. Ororo."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
Jean shut the door, pulling a Kleenex out of he pocket and blowing her nose. "Talk to him," she muttered, "what a crazy idea."  
  
***  
With one last Herculean effort, Scott pulled himself over the edge of the rock. He stood somewhat unsteadily, not able to feel his feet. He couldn't see very far in front of him at all because of the snow and the fact that it was getting increasingly dark, not to mention that his sunglasses had long since frosted over.  
  
I can't do that much more today. I need to find some sort of shelter. He thought.  
  
He looked around but saw only white. Not working, but I need some sort of shelter from the cold soon or- He stopped in mid-thought when an idea struck him. It wasn't brilliant by any means but it just might work. He looked down at the ground, reached to his sunglasses, and lifted them ever so slightly.  
  
The result was wondrous to behold. The deadly crimson beam erupted from his eyes and plummeted into the snow, evaporating a great deal into vapor. The light was blinding but it effectively destroyed all of the snow and rock he hit. Using his destructive optic blasts, Scott was able to 'dig' out a fair sized portion of the ground, resulting in a hole that he could use for shelter.  
  
Scott lowered himself into the hole and winced at the sudden heat present, a result of his optic blasts. Gradually, he adjusted and soon, he was sound asleep, sheltered somewhat from the brutal snowstorm.  
A/N Just so ya'll know, this fic will NOT end up as a Scott/Jean fic. Although there are some feelings between them, Scott ends up with Betsy. As for Warren, I was thinking about having him get together with Jean. Tell me what you think of that and don't forget, REVIEW!! 


	7. CHAPTER 7

What are other people doing here? Betsy asked herself. Her psi-scan had revealed to her that there were other humans nearby, a puzzling fact since there did not seem to be any cities or towns around.  
  
She trudged through the snow glad that the harsh wind was at least blowing with her rather than against her, a small favor that had allowed her to move much faster. Of course, the settling darkness made things harder in its own right.  
  
She wondered idly if maybe Scott was not in trouble. It would be a surprise, since it was only her extensive samurai training and her ability to somewhat psionically regulate her body temperature that allowed HER to continue on.  
  
She stepped forward at the end of a stride, naturally expecting for her foot to come down on solid ground. Therefore it was quite a shock when her foot came down upon empty space, throwing her off balance. She fell, now realizing that she had come across a hole of some sort.  
  
It was not a long fall with the hole being only about a meter deep but what surprised Betsy the most was that her fall was cushioned by something. Her arms flailed out and her head hit something. A rock? No, a soft rock? Her eyes widened at the realization that it was a head. Scott's head.  
  
His eyes fluttered open slightly, closed, and then shot back open in surprise.  
  
"Betsy," he started to say.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Could you maybe get off of me?"  
  
He said this politely but Betsy still blushed furiously. In all of her surprise, she hadn't realized that she was practically on top of him or that her face had been quite so close to his.  
  
She jumped off of Scott, her face still a little warm.  
  
Scott yawned and then wriggled into a sitting position in the cramped space. He regarded her silently for a moment, finally asking, "what are you doing here?"  
  
Betsy shrugged maneuvering into a more comfortable position in the cramped space. The hole was not big enough for two people, leaving her and Scott squished up in the small shelter while the raging blizzard howled above. "Uh, I came to get you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Betsy stared at him as if he were crazy. "What do you mean 'why'? It's freezing, OK. Really really, really cold."  
  
"And you thought you could somehow find me while not freezing to death yourself."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Scott leaned his head back against the rock, his vision blurry. "I suppose I should be flattered," he said, "although I don't really need your help. About three miles away, I saw something, probably other people. I could be there in about an hour."  
  
Betsy gave a sharp laugh. "If you don't freeze to death first."  
  
"You don't need to worry about me," Scott said. Betsy wished she could do just that- stop worrying about Scott, but it seemed as if there were some part of her that just couldn't help it.  
  
She glanced up. It was much darker now and to venture out would be foolish. It seemed as if she would staying put for the night.  
  
"Can't you just telepathically contact the authorities or something?" Scott asked. "I mean, to tell them what happened?"  
  
"I wish," Betsy told him. "For one, I don't have that much psychic range. Besides, then they would know about my powers."  
  
"And we have to assume that nobody'll know about what happened until morning. Even then, it would take a miracle to find us." Scott stated this as if it were a proven fact.  
  
"Well gee, thanks for the optimism." Sometimes, she thought that Scott's confidence was reassuring, but it was a whole different matter when he was confident that something BAD would happen.  
  
"Sorry." Once again, Scott closed his eyes, images from the last few days popping up into his mind. Betsy as she humiliated the male team in dodgeball, earning the respect she deserved. Kurt as he ranted on and on about his newfound invisibility. Jean as they talked. The last few seconds before the bus had crashed.  
  
He opened his eyes, finding that sleep would not come. In his peripheral vision, he saw Betsy, huddled up. She was shivering now, an odd fact now that he thought about it because before, she had not shown any signs that the cold was affecting her.  
  
Even though Betsy could not penetrate his mental defenses, she seemed to be reading his mind.  
  
"For a limited period of time," she said, "I can trick my body into ignoring external conditions, which is why I didn't appear to be cold before." She shivered as she said each word.  
  
"So I guess time's up, huh? Its not working anymore?"  
  
Betsy nodded wordlessly, wrapping her arms around herself.  
  
Scott lifted his arm and somewhat awkwardly put it around Betsy. She looked up in surprise but didn't pull away.  
  
"To keep warm," Scott told her simply, answering her unspoken question.  
  
"Oh." Betsy reached over and embraced Scott, resting her head on his shoulder and curling up into a ball. She would have been lying if she'd said she had never imagined a similar scenario, but in that, the temperature had been about 70 degrees higher and the accommodations were much more comfortable than a hole in the ground. The present situation would have seemed a bit awkward and even embarrassing before but when you were freezing, cuddling up to someone especially when that someone was Scott, didn't seem so bad.  
  
***  
BAMF Kurt teleported out of the way just in time to avoid a sizzling bolt of lightning from one of the Danger Room's many weapons. He backflipped immediately upon touching the ground, landing upon one of the rotating gun turrets.  
  
As if it could sense he were there, the large device began to twist and shake, trying to throw him off. Kurt reached the 'disengage' lever just in time to pull it before he was thrown off.  
  
To his left, Rogue and Evan were busy dealing with a flying sphere that would continually discharge lasers at the pair. It swooped down behind Evan who was on his skateboard, charging up the blaster that was suspended below it. Evan turned around, slightly surprised . He readied a barrage of spikes but even as he did so, knew it would be too late. Then Rogue tackled him, knocking him out of harm's way. The laser sparked against the floor, sending up a puff of smoke.  
  
"Thanks," Evan breathed, popping his spikes. Rogue gave a curt nod and then sprung up, executing a stunning airborne kick that knocked the drone for a loop. It flew around in a strange pattern as if confused before reorienting itself.  
  
Rogue landed gracefully but then the drone fired something at her that she was a little unprepared for. Her eyes narrowed as the spinning cable came at her, then widened when it wrapped itself around her legs, securing them together. Rogue lost her balance and fell backwards. She could see the drone hover in midair, charging up it's lasers.  
  
THUNK From behind her, a spike whistled at the drone at breakneck speed, impaling the spherical robot right through the center. With a loud explosion, the drone was destroyed, sending small bits of shrapnel raining down onto the floor. Rogue turned her head and saw Evan behind her, withdrawing his Spikes. The end of her mouth quirked upward into a semi- smile. "Thanks."  
  
Evan opened his mouth to say 'you're welcome' but Professor Xavier's telepathic summons to the main room cut him off. He hopped off of his skateboard, kicked it up into the air, and caught it, placing it on his back holder.  
  
When Evan Kitty, Kurt, and Rogue reached the expansive living, Xavier, Ororo, and Logan were already there. They had grim looks on their faces and they were watching the television.  
  
Kitty craned her head to see what it was that had their attention. Unfortunately, Logan reached over and turned the set off.  
  
"What's up Prof?" Evan asked in his usual humorous manner.  
  
Xavier wheeled his wheel chair around to face the group, the grave look about him speaking volumes. He sighed, looking each student in the eye. "It would seem," he said, "That Scott's bus is missing."  
  
"Vhat?" Kurt asked.  
  
"They were goin' to Washington D.C. or somethin'," Rogue said. "But Professor, whaddya mean the bus is missin?"  
  
"I mean exactly what I said: the bus is missing. Their communication is not functional and there's a snowstorm over the area right now, making locating it next to impossible."  
  
"So you want us to go rescue Scott," Kitty cut in. It was more of a statement than a question.  
  
"Yes," Ororo said, "if it comes to that. We still aren't sure that they are in need of rescuing, although the non functional communications are increasing the probability that they are."  
  
"Why not just telepathically contact Scott?" Evan asked.  
  
"I'm working on that," Xavier said, "although the mental shields that I taught him how to erect are making the process very difficult." He surveyed the group. "It would be helpful if all of you donned your costumes in the event that we have to mount a rescue."  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Betsy was the first person to awake. At first, she was surprised that the first sight that her eyes beheld was not the Escaflowne poster on her ceiling, but instead the snow-filled sky. She blinked, the situation she was in returning now to her memory. Her left side was much warmer than her right. Slowly, she turned her head and saw Scott there, the only evidence that he was sleeping was the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.  
  
"Scott, she mumbled through half closed eyes, slightly shaking him with her left hand. He did not awaken.  
  
"Hellooo. Scott." She waved her hand over his sunglasses, disappointed that he still did not awaken. Betsy sighed and reached over for Scott's glasses, taking them off. She figured he'd at least awaken at that given the reaction she'd seen before when his glasses were removed.  
  
Scott muttered something and opened his eyes slightly.  
  
TSEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW. Betsy jumped almost a foot back slamming into the 'wall'. A bright scarlet beam had suddenly erupted from his eyes and high into the sky, nearly blinding Betsy. Scott, in his confusion, moved his head, blasting away even more at the shelter and sending bits of rock flying. There was a loud hissing sound as the eyebeam hit the snow, instantly vaporizing it. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the beam stopped.  
  
Betsy felt her heart beating rapidly, she was so shocked that she couldn't speak even when she tried to. If any sound had come out, it would have probably been a scream. Scott, to his credit, remained calm even though he was now very much awake and realized what had just happened. He'd had nightmares about this kind of thing before and they weren't pretty. Desperately, he kept his eyes shut while feeling around on the ground for his glasses.  
  
"Betsy," he said almost fearfully, "Betsy, are you OK?"  
  
"Yeah," she squeaked in a quick breath. So many thought and questions were whirling around in her head as her mind desperately tried to make connections.  
  
Scott let out long breath in relief. "Good. Wow, that-that's a good thing. I mean, I have nightmares and stuff about, you know, this." The words came out in a jumble but Betsy still caught it.  
  
She scooted next to him and placed the sunglasses in his palm. Scott had them on in no time.  
  
Betsy shifted so that she was sitting cross-legged. "That's why you where the sunglasses, isn't it?"  
  
Scott said nothing.  
  
"C'mon Scott. You know my secret. Why not tell me more?"  
  
"Good point. OK, basically I've got these beams of energy or something that come from my eyes, the only thing that can hold it back is ruby quartz or my own eyelids."  
  
"The sunglasses, are they made of ruby quartz?"  
  
Scott nodded. "Its weird. All it takes is for me to look at somebody and BANG! they're dead."  
  
Betsy smiled sympathetically. "You know, I used to think that I was the only one with.abilities. I'm wondering now though."  
  
"Betsy, there a tons of people like you and I," Scott said. "We're mutants."  
  
"Mutants?" Betsy wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Sounds kind of negative, but that's the truth of it."  
  
"I don't suppose you know any other mutants."  
  
Scott hesitated at that one. He wasn't sure he wanted to reveal his friends.  
  
"Never mind," Betsy told him after seeing his reaction. She looked up. "Whaddya say we get out of here and find what we came for?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan."  
***  
  
"Did you see that?!" Nate exploded. His eyes had gone the size of tennis balls and he was staring at something way past Brice. Slowly, Brice turned around just in time to glimpse a bright red beam of energy piercing the sky before it disappeared. Rille Marion came into the living room of the cabin just then. "Is everything alright?" he asked. "No, Brice said. "No, everything is not alright. There's somebody up here with us, and they just sent a flare up or something." "Pretty doggone weird flare," Nate muttered. Brice ignored him and blew out a breath. "We can't afford to have somebody up here attracting anybody, especially the law."  
  
"You want me to get Karl and Greg?" "Yeah-yeah, why not. We are going to scour this whole area and take whoever it is out before they can contact anyone. No body, no traces, it'll be like they just disappeared." 


	8. Chapter 8

Betsy looked over at Scott, warmed a little by the reassuring look he gave her as they trudged up the snowy mountain. She was cold again and found herself missing the added warmth that Scott provided. However, they couldn't very well stay in a hole forever and they need to find help.  
  
Betsy smiled back as best she could. She supposed she looked rather strange. Her face was already contorted because of the cold and the chewing gum that Scott had given made her jaws hurt after a while. He'd warned her not to stop chewing though because the only way to keep from getting a frozen mouth was to keep it in motion. When asked where he'd heard that, he replied simply saying that he'd gotten it from a book.  
  
"You see that?" Scott asked after a half hour.  
  
"What?" Betsy queried as she squinted to see what it was he was referring to through the translucent snowfall. In the near distance, two figures were approaching. Betsy reached out with her telepathy and indeed confirmed that they were real people.  
  
"Hey!" Scott yelled. "Hey! Can you hear us? We need help!"  
  
There was silence for a moment and then a BAM! sound. It took a while to register but when Scott saw bits of snow flying up as holes appeared in the ground, he knew it was gunfire. "Run!" he yelled, this time at Betsy. They diverged in opposite directions as bullets cut through the area that they had formerly occupied.  
  
Betsy ran, not away from the two but rather at them. She leapt into the air once she was close enough and executed one of the flying kicks that she practiced in her room every day.  
  
The side of her foot struck the first gunman squarely in the chest. He went flying backwards, his gun sailing out of his hands and into the snow.  
  
The second attacker swiveled to face her but Scott came up just then, delivering a powerful right cross that spun the guy around and back. A sidekick knocked the firearm out of his hand and higher snap kick lifted him into the air, finally depositing him next to his accomplice.  
  
Betsy turned to Scott, still not quite believing it. "What was that?" she asked.  
  
Scott shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe we should-"  
  
Scott abruptly cutting off his own sentence and his eyebrows going up were the only indication that Betsy got that something was amiss before she felt something knocking her legs out from under her. With a harsh thud, she fell to the ground and in an instant, her opponent (who was very much still conscious) was on top of her, reaching for her neck.  
  
Betsy grimaced and tried to kick him off of her, but he was apparently anticipating that because he moved just enough to the side to avoid the strike.  
  
A tingling sensation in her hand caused Betsy to look down. Her hand was glowing, radiating some sort of energy. The guy trying to choke loosened his grip when he saw this. His mouth looked as if it was about to say something but he never got the chance. The glowing in Betsy's right hand sprung out into a bright blue blade of sorts that impaled him through the shoulder. For some reason, no blood came out and there was no entry wound, even though he was screaming like crazy and clutching his head.  
  
Betsy kicked him off of her easily as his grip had totally slacked. First she looked down at her hand, which was beginning to return to normal and then at her attacker who lie in the snow clutching his head. Not his shoulder, his head.  
  
Betsy watched in amazement as his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed in a heap on the ground.  
  
***  
Ah, Jean. You're awake. I think it would be best if you came downstairs into the main room right now.  
  
Jean frowned. She'd just woken up and the Professor's telepathic voice was not what she wanted. Even so, he sounded so grim it was almost scary. What could've happened?  
  
Jean slid her feet into her slippers and padded down the stairs, wiping the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes.  
  
"Okay Professor, I'm here. What is it?" she asked when she reached the rest of the group. They all turned to look at her and she was surprised that the expressions on their faces mirrored that of Xavier's.  
  
"What happened?" she asked simply.  
  
"It's Scott," said Ororo. "His bus is missing out in the wilderness somewhere."  
  
It took a while for Jean to make the mental connections. Scott's bus? Wait, he'd been going to DC on a bus. She would have gone with him had it not been for her illness. "What? Are you kidding?" she asked finally.  
  
"No she's not," said Kitty. "The bus was supposed to reach a checkpoint about three hours ago but it never made it. The weather is really bad over there and not even the state officials can get a rescue force outto the region"  
  
Jean looked at each of the X-men gathered there. It didn't seem to be joke.  
  
"So no one can find him?"  
  
"Or the rest of the students on the trip. Apparently, the bus's communications are damaged." Kitty gulped and averted her eyes to the ground.  
  
"So, if he's missing," Jean said, "why not use Cerebro to find him.  
  
"I have already done that," said Charles.  
  
"Well then what are we waiting for?" Jean asked incredulously. "Lets get him back!" Quickly, she added, "And the rest of the students of course,"  
  
"We can't. It is impossible-the Blackbird can't do much in such hostile weather. I would have Storm clear it up but I don't want to risk her undertaking such an incredible task as completely reversing the current weather. As I'm sure you remember, the last time she was forced to try something like that she nearly went brain dead.  
  
Jean did remember. "So you're saying we can't help Scott?"  
  
"Not really-not until the storm passes." Xavier paused. "He's alive though, and his vital signs have not significantly dropped so I don't think he or his companion have anything to worry about."  
  
"His companion?"  
  
"Yes, actually that's also something we need to discuss. There is someone with Scott apparently."  
  
"And?" Jean prompted.  
  
"And, she's a mutant. A rather formidable telepath if Cerebro's readings can be trusted."  
  
"Betsy!" Kitty exclaimed. "That must be Betsy."  
  
"Who?" asked Logan.  
  
"She's a girl at school. I heard Scott say she was psychic or something."  
  
Jean ran a hand through her hair. "Betsy just moved here," she said. "She had a run-in with Scott when she accidentally barged into the boys locker room and erased their memories of it afterward. All except for Scott of course. His mental shields protected him I guess. After that, I really didn't see much of Betsy."  
  
"You do know you should have told me," Xavier admonished. "It is vital that we be able to contact, maybe even gain any new mutants that show up."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Jean told him. She sneezed loudly just then, startling everyone.  
  
"Maybe ya oughta get back to bed, Red," Logan suggested as he blew out a long stream of cigar smoke, much to Ororo's obvious dismay.  
  
Jean shook here head. "No, I'm fine. If the weather gets better I want to be here when we take off to find Scott."  
  
"Suit yerself." Logan took another smoke and then flicked the cigar with perfect aim into the garbage can in the next room after stubbing out the flame.  
  
Charles looked around the room. "Well, all of you can go on now. Kurt, be ready for your meeting with me concerning your visibility control."  
  
Gotcha," said Kurt before disappearing with a BAMF sound.  
  
***  
"Whoa," Scott muttered as he looked down at the unconscious man. He turned to Betsy, noting that there was still the faint gleam of light that emanated from her hand. It disappeared about five seconds later.  
  
Betsy did not respond. She wiggled her fingers and then finally glanced at Scott. "I-I don't know what that was," she said shakily. "It was weird-it was like-"  
  
"Its OK," Scott cut in, interrupting her hasty attempt at an explanation. "Seriously."  
  
"You're not freaked out?"  
  
"No," Scott said reassuringly. I think the guy who's packin' a bazooka behind each eyeball can handle a little weirdness. Besides, its kind of cool."  
  
Betsy regarded him silently for a moment before speaking. "You don't usually act like this," she said."  
  
"Act like what?"  
  
Betsy shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose 'open' would be the correct term. Usually your always so rigid and controlled. Like a robot. It just seems like you've up opened up a bit more lately."  
  
"No, I don't know," said Scott, genuinely confused.  
  
"Oh, well then never mind," Betsy said hastily. She wasn't quite sure why she'd brought it up in the first place.  
  
She looked down at the two men who had opened fire on them. "What should we do about these guys?" she asked.  
  
Scott knelt down and reached into the first man's pocket, coming up empty handed. He methodically searched both of them but they were clean. "Well, we don't know who they are or why they attacked us," he said, "but it certainly adds a whole new dynamic to things."  
  
"Mmmm hmm. Betsy crouched down beside him and reached out a hand that came to rest on the first man's forehead. "Maybe if I psi-scan this guy I can learn something valuable," she suggested before closing her eyes and trying her best to do a mental probe. The fact that the guy was unconscious complicated things, but she had surprised herself once that day and there was nothing to say she couldn't do it again.  
  
Betsy got brief images. A cabin, faces, and more. A memory of his flashed before Betsy's mental eye. 'No bodies, no traces. It'll be like they just disappeared.'  
  
Her eyes widened and she immediately broke the telepathic rapport.  
  
"What is it?" Scott asked.  
  
Betsy looked up at him. "Someone wants to kill us. All I got was a brief message but there's more people out there trying to get rid of us."  
  
"Why?" Scott asked.  
  
Betsy shrugged. "I don't know. But I think we'd better forget about trying to get help from anybody up here and figure out how to get back."  
  
***  
  
Jean slowly walked back to her bedroom, collapsing on the immaculately made bed when she reached it. It seemed like such a simple problem to solve- getting Scott back. The X-Men had handled much more difficult problems in the past, but bad weather and a missing bus, it seemed unreal for that to be an unsolvable scenario.  
  
Jean closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.  
A/N Probably not my best chappie but please review anyway. 


End file.
